Day 732. No response. His wait got longer and lonelier. He wished that each morning's sunshine would end his rotting hope. He would zap the edge of his bed with dulled fingers and whine his agony to nobody's concern. "Solitary confinement would be a paradise," he would remind himself.
Day 0. He tucked in his shirt and tied a perfect bow tie. He sprayed the finest perfume his wife got him on their honeymoon in Maldives. "Strong and staggering," he remarked. "Honey, are you ready yet?" he called out to his beautiful wife in the other room. When he heard no sound after a second call, he panicked. He paced to her room and found her with a book in her hand. "Baby, are you alright?" he asked.
She inhaled deeply and didn't move an emotion. He plucked her palm from the pages of the book while he felt a white flush off his own face. She remained silent and stared her moist eyes into the blurred page. His heart pumped little and he knew it was time.
She let his hand off and closed her eyes. He walked out of the room and looked outside his window. She got up and scuffed out. She roved around until she found her next fitting step.
Many days before Day 0. Maldives. They held hands and walked on the beach. "Remember the time I rocketed a letter to you in language class?" He blushed. She began, "That was the first time you said:
Hours, minutes, and seconds.They come and go.When life with you beckons, Time would come to owe.
"I knew life's choice would be you," she ended with a blooming smile. "You expressed it like any feeling couldn't. The power of those 18 words would last forever." He treasured the moment and wished that they be lost in the hopeful brace of life.
A few days before Day 0. While she was away at work, he began to write...
It wasn't until the day when I expressed my love for her; on a piece of paper that was meant for her to read and comprehend my state of mind. I loved her deeply and imagined life's greatest pleasures as mine. Mine alone. She would be around me, love me, talk to me, listen to me, play with me, and love me more. When we're company, there's no three. A beautiful story is written with a busy mind, not a pen. A melody is sung with a fervid voice, not a tune. Love's between two souls, not any other. Life with her would be just us. There's room for none. If there's one, that would be silenced, for a hedge between us deserves to be muted. For good. My life is her.
Day 733. Solitary confinement. He stared into the sunshine and blinked at his fate.